In the Closet
by astudyinships
Summary: Johnlock HS AU In which John's roommate locks him in a closet during a party so that he won't interfere. When a brutal snowstorm affects the school's power, how will John escape the bitter cold of his closet? Will a certain student aid in the rescue of John Watson? Written in both John's and Sherlock's POV. Rated T for some mild language.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, readers! I do hope you will enjoy reading this fic. I'm expecting it to be rather long and slow-building, so bear with me. Well, enough from me, let's get to the story. I hope you'll enjoy! **

_ Sigh_. Another boring Friday night, John thought to himself as he watched telly. The local news station interrupted the program he was watching, and he checked the clock on his bedside table. 6:09 p.m.

_ "…should expect severe weather in your area later tonight; major snow storms are headed our way. Be sure to take extra precautions and…" _John quickly lost interest in the weather station's ramblings. Severe snow storms were not uncommon at this time of year after all, especially in London. John considered getting his homework for the weekend done early, just to give him something to do to pass the time. He barely finished contemplating this idea when his roommate, Edgar Cunningham, entered the room, none too quietly, as a matter of fact. The boy was dark haired and average built, (from being on the school's rugby team) however, a little on the chubby side. Slamming the door nonchalantly (he wasn't angry, John noted, just careless of other peoples' opinions toward his actions), Edward looked at John in attempt to catch his attention without words.

"Ed," John said awkwardly. The two never got along very well; Edgar had been a bully to John ever since grade school. John was always picked on for his size (he was quite small compared to the other boys his age, he always had been). Edgar had specifically chosen for John to be his roommate because he knew the shorter boy wouldn't fight back or ask anyone for help. He was basically just an easy victim, one of whom he'd known the weaknesses of since childhood.

"Evening, Watson," Edgar started, speaking more kindly than usual. John knew this tone; it was always used when he wanted John's help. John wondered what kind of task he would have to put up with this time, and eyed Edgar suspiciously. "So, I'm having some friends from the rugby team over tonight, and I need you to be out of the way." John was familiar with Ed's get-togethers with his friends. They always involved drinking and food. He also knew what was being asked of him. Every time Ed had his friends over to their room, Ed had locked John inside the closet in the corner of the room. He was really starting to hope the parties would stop, since rugby season was over. However, the most of the team still gathered in their room every few weeks. And frankly, John was sick of waiting for hours inside the dark, cramped closet that was stuffed with Ed's items.

"That's alright, I was actually planning on going over to one of my friend's rooms tonight," John lied. He hoped Ed would buy it and let him go without being trapped in that small space all night. "There's no need to worry about me telling anyone about your parties, Ed, we both know I wouldn't do that." He might have been lying about visiting his friend, but he was certainly telling the truth regarding telling anyone about Ed and his friends. He knew that any small punishment the bully would receive would not be worth the beating John would get for ratting him out.

"I can't risk it, Watson. You're going in the closet," Ed said firmly. Even though John sincerely disliked the kid, he had to admit that he was very intimidatingly persuasive. He knew that if he refused to spend the night in the closet, he would end up getting thrown in anyway, after being knocked unconscious.

"What time are they coming over," John asked after he rolled his eyes.

"6:30."

"Great. Fantastic. Thanks for giving me so much time to prepare, Ed. I really appreciate it."

"Stop being such a baby. Just do as you normally do. And if you make any noise or disturb us in any way, you'll regret it. Understand?"

John scowled as he looked at the TV from his bed. The weatherman was still talking about the weather system headed their way. It was now 6:13. He wasn't looking forward to another extremely boring night all by himself in the dark closet of his room. He wished he actually had someone who he could go to instead of watching his roommate drink the night away with his brute friends. Unfortunately, John wasn't very popular with the people in his school. He didn't really have anyone at all who he necessarily liked. Then again, he didn't waste time getting to know anyone. He's been invisible throughout his entire schoolhood. No one talked to him unless they wanted to pick on him.

6:15. Fifteen more minutes. John heard footsteps outside the door. Someone must have come early. Edward motioned to for John to quickly get inside the closet. Grudgingly, he did. He knew the drill, however Ed still seemed to feel it was necessary to tell him, "Close the door all the way, don't turn on the light, don't make any noise or I will hurt you," in a hurried whisper.

So he did. He got into the closet. He didn't turn on the light. He didn't make any noise. Edgar quickly locked the closet door from the outside before he went to open the door to their room. John was really getting tired of this.

Half an hour later (he presumed it was about half an hour; he didn't have his phone or watch with him to check the time) more of Ed's friends had arrived. He could see the group through a small crack in the closet door. Many of the people Edgar associated with were the same ones who had also picked on John since grade school. He wondered vaguely if he had always been considered weird or abnormal by these kids, or of he was simply an easy target for everyone's bullying.

He pondered for a little while on what he had ever done to these kids that made them all want to make his life miserable. However, he never liked to feel sorry for himself. Getting picked on was just part of his life and he accepted it.

* * *

An hour or so into the "party," John was growing very tired, even though he knew it wasn't even 8:00 yet. He's been staring through the small crack in the door at the window for the past few minutes. The snow was falling quickly and heavily, already packing a few inches on the windowsill outside. The wind whistled loudly and shook the shadow of the bare tree outside John's room. He suddenly realized just how cold it was in the small closet, and briefly considered trying to sneak out and turn on the room's heater. Nope, not a very good idea, John thought.

Carefully and quietly, he moved to a more comfortable position; his legs were falling asleep from going so long without motion. He managed to bring his legs toward him without making too much noise. Leaning his head against the wall next to him, he closed his heavy eyes and tried to fall asleep. However, the conversation outside John's closet was rather interesting and kept him alert. Even though he was exhausted, he couldn't help but listen to the gossip.

"…we know you have a thing for Sally Donovan," one the boys said.

"No," Greg Lestrade responded defensively. "We're just friends."

"Uh huh, sure. You're right. Now you've convinced us," Another added sarcastically.

"And what about you, Ed. How's your boyfriend?"

"What're you talking about?"

"Your roommate! You're the only one here who actually requested to share a room with that dork. Should we expect a happy announcement anytime soon?" The others laughed.

"No, it's not… I only requested him as a roommate because otherwise they would have out me with someone who didn't listen. At least I can keep _him_ in check."

"Oh, you keep him in check? That's good to know!"

"I don't think I even _want_ to know what you mean, Ed."

_Gross, _John thought to himself.

"Alright, everyone, that's enough," Greg started. "We don't have to be starting rumors or-"

All of a sudden, the room became very dark. John's eyes snapped open and he realized what was going on.

"What the Hell?"

"Who turned the lights off?"

"Come on, this isn't funny."

"Everyone be quiet!" Greg insisted seriously. "I think the power went out."

"Fucking great. Now they're gonna come up and find us. Quick, hide the rest of the beer and the bottles."

"I'll do it," Ed remarked, most likely scared that someone would open up the closet door in confusion. He put the empty bottles in the trash and John heard him put paper and rubbish over the bottles to conceal them. He took the remaining full bottles and hid them behind his headboard.

After a few moments there were more footsteps outside the door. One of the school's administrators burst into the room frantically. "Out! Everybody out! We're evacuating!" HE said seriously. "The power went out and we need to make sure everyone is accounted for. Follow me down to the assembly room." They looked at each other in confusion and followed the staff member out the door, closing it behind them.

_Okay, they're gone, _John thought to himself. _I should follow them-_ "Uh oh," he said out loud as he reached for the doorknob. It was locked from the outside. He jiggled the knob until he felt his hand would break. He knew not to even try to break down the door, as he wouldn't be strong enough to do it. The darkness wasn't improving the situation in the slightest. He couldn't even see through the crack anymore; the blackness was fully encompassing his vision.

_They won't forget me. Someone will notice I'm gone. Ed will tell them I'm up here, right?_ All of these thoughts and more took up John's head as he tried to think of a solution. What if Ed didn't tell anyone? What if he froze to death? What if they didn't find him for days and he starved? What if he had to use the bathroom?

"Oh my God, I'm going to die," he quaked out loud to himself.

It became bitterly cold much quicker than John imagined it would. The temperature mixed with the room's darkness was not a good combination. They added to the hopeless feeling that ran through John's body. No one knew he was here; no one but Ed. John decided then and there that he would give anything just to switch roommates. He never wanted to look at Edgar again. He was done playing the good guy.

Shivering, wrapped in a few random pieces of clothing from the closet floor, John pulled his limbs toward his body in attempt to save as much body heat as possible. He was hungry. He hadn't gotten the chance to eat dinner or even a snack before he was shoved in the closet by his stupid roommate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed! I tried to post this chapter quickly, however the story is being co-written by my sister and myself. **

**REVIEW PLEASE! Be harsh about it! I want to know exactly what you think of the story. Does it suck? Do we need to change anything? Please take a minute and review!**

Down in the assembly room, the staff members worked on taking attendance. They called out each student's name and year. Sherlock Holmes sat in the far corner of the room, unimpressed with the unorganized way in which things were being handled.

The assembly hall was very large. It had many rows of chairs as well as a stage in the front, almost shaped like a theatre. It was mainly used for gathering a large group of students or teachers. On normal circumstances, the room wasn't used for a safehouse to hold the entire school body. Then again, this wasn't a normal circumstance.

_This is dull, _Sherlock thought to himself. He wished he were back in his own room, maybe talking to his plastic skull (the school wouldn't let him keep a real one), or doing next month's homework. Just then, Mycroft Holmes, a school administrator who also happened to be Sherlock's older brother, picked up the microphone and began speaking.

"Quiet, everyone. Please, quiet down." Slowly, the voices began to fade as Mycroft addressed the group. "I am aware of the inconvenience of the situation; however, considering the urgency of the matter, we must all cooperate. Please refrain from excessive noise and try to remain orderly."

Sherlock rolled his eyes in disgust. One of the disadvantages of having an older brother in the school system was that he expected you to listen to him. Mycroft continued, "The staff should continue to take attendance. If anyone should be missing or unaccounted for, please report to me immediately." At that, Mycroft put back down the microphone and walked swiftly away. Sherlock grudgingly got up from his spot on the floor and walked slowly to the place where most of the other people his age were sitting, about 8 rows back from the front. He expected his name would be called soon; the person taking attendance for his class was already on the last names beginning with G.

After Sherlock's name was called, he sat down in one of the chairs and zoned out temporarily, lost in his own thoughts. He only came back to his senses when he realized the last person on the list, John Watson, didn't respond to his name being called. Many of the people in Sherlock's group curiously turned their heads, wondering if they might be able to spot John, but to no avail. "John Watson, if you are in the building, please report to the nearest staff member immediately," Sherlock heard Mycroft say over the loudspeakers a moment later, standing next to a worried looking teacher. Sherlock deduced that this teacher was the one who reported John Watson's absence to Sherlock's brother. A few more wandering faces hoped to perhaps get a glimpse of the missing student, but he was still nowhere to be found.

Debating whether or not to go up to Mycroft and inquire about the missing Watson, Sherlock decided that he was, in fact, very bored with the whole situation. He knew he wasn't supposed to leave the hall without an escort or special permission, but desperate times called for desperate measures; and his boredom was very desperate, indeed. Searching his mind for anything to do to keep himself occupied, he decided to walk to the restroom. He stood from his chair and headed towards the back of the hall, into the building's lobby, where the bathrooms were located. He would have to be quick about this.

He opened the door slightly and inconspicuously, hoping to draw no attention to himself. When he saw the empty lobby, he knew he would be safe from any teachers who may scold him or students who may tell someone where he was. He just wanted to be alone with his thoughts. He walked quickly to the left side of the lobby, to the mens' room.

Sherlock opened the door and was happy to find it empty. He didn't really need to use the bathroom, but it was nice to get away from the loud noises of the whole school in one bloody room.

Stepping up to the sinks and mirror, Sherlock looked at his reflection. A tall, skinny boy with shaggy, curly, black hair stared back at him. An icy blue gaze the color of the summer sky pierced the sight, adding a splash of color to the otherwise plain room. He was alone, and very, very bored. Sometimes he wished he had someone to talk to, other than the plastic skull in his room. But he knew no one at this school would be able to keep up with him intellectually, and that was very important to Sherlock. That was one of the reasons why he didn't have a roommate. Well, that, and the fact that everyone hated him. Everyone called him "freak" or "fag." They believed him to be homosexual because he never showed any interest in girls or sex. However, he wasn't exactly sure what his sexual orientation was. Not that he cared; something to common and trivial couldn't be given a single thought by the young genius. He would rather work alone, anyway. He didn't need anyone to fog up his thoughts while he was trying to think.

Sherlock wet his hands and brought water up to his face, mostly to kill some time. He had no desire to go back to the assemble hall. He knew he would have to, eventually, however, before someone realized he was gone. Just as he was pondering exactly how long he could remain in the restrooms, someone burst through the door, looking exasperated.

"There you are! Oi! I've found him!" the man yelled to some people in the lobby. The man, most likely a teacher, grabbed Sherlock's arm and pulled him out of the bathroom, a shout of protest escaping the tall boy's lips. He was much taller than this teacher, however he was still pulling him back into the lobby as if he were a small child.

"Did you ask anyone's permission before you wandered off like that, boy? We've already got one kid missing; we bloody well don't need another!" He paused. "I'm reporting you to Mr. Holmes. What is your name?"

"You just said it," Sherlock stated plainly.

"I'm sorry?"

"You said 'Mr. Holmes.' That is my name," he explained, as if he were talking to the world's most unintelligent fool.

"Don't get smart with me. Okay, you must be Mr. Holmes' younger brother." Sherlock didn't answer so the man continued. "Well, that just makes it all the better for you. Maybe your dear old brother can teach you not to wander off."

"He's tried. As you might have noticed, it didn't work." Sherlock tugged his arm away from the man's tight grip as they made their way through a crowd of teachers and students who were standing. All of the seats were filled up. Mycroft was standing to the side, talking to his secretary, Anthea. Sherlock and the teacher walked up to the elder Holmes and the teacher addressed him.

"Mr. Holmes," he started. "I've found your missing brother." Sherlock scowled. Why was he only referred to as either "freak" or "Mycroft's little brother?" It was annoying and quite frankly insulting.

"Ah, very good. You may leave him here, Mr. Bachman. I have something for him to do," Mycroft stated.

"I hope you will use whatever punishment on this boy that you see fit, Mr. Holmes. We don't need him wandering off again."

"I am perfectly capable of providing the reprimand I see necessary," Mycroft began, "However, if this were any other student, it would be a much simpler disciplinary process. With that being said, I think it would be most beneficial that I keep my own personal eye on my younger brother. Thank you for locating him, Mr. Bachman." The teacher ambled away, looking flustered that the elder Holmes dismissed him so quickly. Mycroft then addressed Sherlock, "Now, brother, you know better than to go wandering off like that."

"I could use without your unintelligent ramblings, Mycroft," Sherlock spat.

"Was there any reason why you left the assembly room unannounced?"

"Because I was bored."

"Well, I have a solution. Partly due to your boredom, but mostly because I want to ensure that you won't wander off again, you will accompany myself as well as a group of staff members on a search for John Watson." Sherlock scowled at this remark, but he and Mycroft both knew that he was quite thankful to be given this task. He could get away from the painfully ignorant fools who were his classmates, while at the same time practice his deduction skills; the young genius had always had a secret desire to use his knowledge of peoples' behaviors to locate solutions and solve problems.

A few moments later, Mycroft walked up to the microphone at the side of the stage and made another announcement. "At this time we will be getting a search party in order. The teachers who were called on to aid the process should come to the front as soon as possible. In the meantime, we ask gravely- if anyone has any information as to where John Watson may be, please do not hesitate to speak now. If you are found to have kept information from us, there will be consequences." A few more heads turned to look around the room and Sherlock used this opportunity to scan the crowd for any suspicious behavior.

The front row: Girls laughing at a joke one of their friends told, not paying attention to what Mycroft was saying. Admirable of them, however they were not the suspects

A few rows back: Two teachers made their way through the large crowd of seats in the auditorium to come to the front of the hall.

Towards the middle: More heads turned. One boy sat with his hand supporting his face averting his eyes to the floor.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He knew this boy, it was Edgar Cunningham. He had picked on Sherlock since they were children. Although it didn't particularly affect Sherlock, he wouldn't put it past the bully to trap another student somewhere during a snowstorm.

Sherlock walked up to his older brother. "The boy in the red shirt, about eight rows back, do you see him? He has his hand on his face and he is looking at the floor."

"Sherlock, wh—"

"Do you see him?"

Mycroft glanced over his brother's shoulder towards the crowd and briefly scanned the people. "Yes, I see him. What is the matter?"

"He knows something about the missing student. Edgar Cunningham, that's his name, has been a bully to many people since our days in primary school. He also happens to be John Watson's roommate. I know Edgar's personality and I am fairly certain that Edgar would, in any other situation, be making jokes and talking loudly to his friends. However, he is not known to deal well with guilt. I assume he knows something about John's whereabouts. Just look at his body language," Mycroft glanced at the crowd again and Sherlock continued, "Shoulders slouched, face half hidden, averted gaze; he's hoping not to make eye contact with anyone he knows him and John are roommates. There are clear signs, and I think it is wise if we searched his room before anywhere else."

"Brother, if this is simply a childhood grudge against this Edgar boy for bullying you, please save it. Someone has obviously already entered John and Edgar's room, otherwise Edgar wouldn't know to be here. Someone had to go and fetch them when the power went out. "

"Mycroft," Sherlock started seriously, looking at his brother in the eyes, "I do not seek revenge against anyone. I am simply stating facts- true facts- about this boy and information I know. There are numerous places where one could be hidden, even in one's own room. I think it would be best if we start there." Mycroft seemed to contemplate his brother's rant, and then looked to be convinced.

"We will check the boy's room first." At that Mycroft walked towards the search party gathered at the front of the hall. In total, ten teachers were present; along with Sherlock, Mycroft, and the school nurse, Mrs. Hudson. "Thank you for aiding our search," Mycroft began. "We will start by searching John Watson's room. I have trustful information that foul play might have been involved, in the form of bullying. If you will follow me…"


	3. Chapter 3

In his small closet, John was sure he would die. It had been over three hours since the power went out. He fell asleep for about an hour but was awakened by a sudden shiver. Had everyone really forgotten about him? Most likely, he thought. Who would bother to remember him, anyway? He had no friends. And Ed surely wouldn't tell anyone that he locked his roommate in their bedroom closet.

John had been shivering uncontrollably since he woke up. He scavenged a few pieces of stray clothing to attempt to bundle himself up as best he could, but he couldn't even hold them up to his body anymore- his hands weren't working properly in the biting air. John was starting to ponder if they had simply frozen and fallen off. Not that he had any way of knowing if they did; hid whole body was numb and it was too dark to see anything.

Just then, John thought he heard something outside his closet door. He managed to position himself so that he could see through the small crack in the door. Was he seeing correctly? The door to the dorm room was opening and people were coming in. Mr. Holmes, Mrs. Hudson; the school nurse, a tall, slender boy who John recognized but didn't know very well, followed by various other people, all heavily bundled in coats, scarves, and gloves. It was going to be okay. John would be saved.

"In here," John tried to say, but his voice came out as a croak that was no louder than a whisper. That would never get their attention. But John's adrenaline was kicking in and he gained a small burst of energy. He achingly raised his left arm to pound on the door, barely able to move from the stiff cold in the miniscule closet space.

"Help, please!" he urged, louder this time. He pounded on the door yet again, this time gathering the attention from a certain boy right outside the door.

* * *

Sherlock had been thinking. Where could John Watson be within the room that he could be hidden from obvious view?

_Pound! Pound! Pound! "Help, please!"_

It only took two or three quick strides for Sherlock to reach the closet door. He unlocked it and quickly wrenched open the door. There was John Watson, crouched on the floor of the closet with pieces of clothing draped unceremoniously over his body.

"Mycroft!" Sherlock shouted. "I've found him!" Sherlock shouted. The younger Holmes stepped out of the way and let various staff members retrieve John from the confines of the closet and attempt to warm him. They bundled the boy up in numerous blankets and jackets, which John accepted urgently but graciously. He shivered, wrapped in a cocoon of fabric. Sherlock took this time to study John. He was quite short, with sandy, blond hair that was cut in a military-like style. Although Sherlock vaguely knew who John was, he never associated with him and therefore never had the chance to properly study him. Sherlock snapped out of his thought when he heard his elder brother speak.

"We must get this boy to the assembly hall immediately, as it is the only place on the premises that has suitable electricity," Mycroft started. "Mrs. Hudson, would you be so kind as to escort John back while I go question a suspect?" He looked at his younger brother knowingly. Sherlock knew Mycroft was going to question Edgar Cunningham.

"Absolutely," Mrs. Hudson, the school nurse, replied. "Come on sweetie, right this way." She wrapped her arm around John's shoulders as they walked, the short boy's teeth still chattering audibly as they made their way toward their destination.

"Sherlock, follow Mrs. Hudson and John. Please keep out of trouble until I get back." Sherlock rolled his eyes at his older brother. He grudgingly complied, following Mrs. Hudson and the shivering John Watson down the corridor.


End file.
